


the show has just begun

by v_darkstar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom!McCree, Creampie, Dom/sub Undertones, Groping, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Marking, More tags to come!, Nipple Play, Rough Sex, Violence, Yakuza!Hanzo, honeypot!mccree, strike commander!jack, thigh fucking ahoy hoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:58:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_darkstar/pseuds/v_darkstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gunslinger nodded slowly, a sense of dread filling his stomach as Reyes’s smile grew wicked, “Your mission is to seduce the target.”</p><p>Squawking out a confused noise, Jesse’s eyes read the two equally daunting words on the file, <i>SHIMADA</i> and <i>CLASSIFIED</i> staring back at him in menacing bold text.</p><p>;</p><p>Or that Blackwatch!AU where one Jesse McCree is sent in as a honeypot to get information on the Shimada Clan, even if he has to seduce a brother or two.</p><p>(And Jack may or may not be particularly happy about it when he finds out afterwards.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> holy bread crumbs this kinda got away from me but i hope you enjoy! wrote this to bring awareness to the fact that hanzo isn't the only one who has assets that need hugging, and also because i finally got my mccree chibi ingame so yaaay i'm a happy snowflake asfhask.
> 
> just to be sure, warnings for mild violence and somewhat mild dubious consent due to situational reasons; all participants are willing and 100% into doing the dirty when they do the do, but the circumstances aren't 100% meet cute like, so thought i'd warn just in case that triggers anyone!
> 
> i reply to every comment i get so i hope to hear from anyone and everyone, lemme cuddle and hug you in my tiny arms~
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO KIDS MAKE SURE TO PRACTICE SAFE SEX, DON'T FOLLOW THESE GUYS' EXAMPLE THEY'RE DUMB AND RISKY 
> 
> will be several parts to this also fyi
> 
> (only beta read by yours truly so sorry if anything jumps at you and hisses evil things into your ear, viciously at that.)
> 
> come talk to me on [my tumblr!](http://vanquish-darkstar.tumblr.com)

 

 

 

Jesse isn’t an overly vain man - he’s got good enough vision to acknowledge he looks awfully swell in his preferred cowboy hat and belt buckle sure, well, when Reyes isn't forcing him to take them off for a mission (all the while spouting talk about being covert) - but even he can admit the outfit they’ve slapped onto him today has been tailored to bring out all he has going for him, even if the black jeans are so tight they feel like a second skin. He feels naked without Peacekeeper at his side, his hand absently brushing his leg where the familiar weight should be. His anxiety is already slightly higher than usual but the fact he’s not armed with anything at all isn’t helping either, even if he’s been instructed several times already that this particular mission didn’t leave him with the option of carrying a concealed weapon, less his cover be blown and then his head promptly blown off too, but that didn’t stop Jesse from asking anyone and everyone involved, even sulking up to Reyes several times, asking if it could maybe please pretty pretty please be okay if he was allowed a simple knife even, bemoaning when the answer from all the people - every single one - was the exact same resounding _No Jesse, stop asking Jesse._

 

 

After joining Blackwatch, Jesse had assumed it’d be the same old same old work of assassinations, take-downs and raids until either his target of the week died or he did, but safely he can say he never expected to be assigned to anything remotely close to espionage - he ain’t afraid to admit he isn’t particularly good at infiltrating or sneaking around - so when Reyes stomped up to him and slammed a file on the table with a brief about how Jesse was to go undercover and get the target talking, Jesse was as confused as an alligator would be in the desert.

 

 

And then Reyes had raised an eyebrow at Jesse’s confused look before snorting at him, “Buck up sunshine, you’re getting a chance to test that silver tongue of yours,” and after a beat, “among other things.”

 

 

Jesse just continued to stare dazedly back at him until Reyes rolled his eyes and pointed at the file, “Do I need to say it in words that a 10 year old could understand?”

 

 

The gunslinger nodded slowly, a sense of dread filling his stomach as Reyes’s smile grew wicked, “Your mission is to seduce the target.”

 

 

Squawking out a confused noise, Jesse’s eyes read the two equally daunting words on the file, _SHIMADA_ and _CLASSIFIED_ staring back at him in menacing bold text.

 

 

“Are you sure this is okay, boss?”

 

 

Reyes’s gaze sharpens, “and why wouldn't it be?”

 

 

Jesse coughs weakly, “I mean, has Jack said it was okay? Given official approval?”

 

 

“I don't give a flying fuck what he thinks, why should I?” Reyes advances on Jesse, “Is Morrison the leader of Blackwatch? Tell me, McCree, is he the one you're reporting to right now?”

 

 

“No sir, Reyes, boss-man, err-”

 

 

“Exactly.”

 

 

;

 

 

The plane ride was comfortable enough, two seats reserved just for him to stretch out like a house cat, but now he groans inwardly at the stark comparison of how he's forced to sit all pretty like at this moment. Shifting on the bar stool, he makes sure to lean forward enough so that any passing eyes wouldn’t be able to ignore the expanse of his back and his ass on display through the skin tight clothes. Sure he’s never done this kind of thing _officially_ before but he isn’t new to it all together, sometimes you can survive in this world with a flirtatious smile and sweet words instead of trying to plain old run away from everything in life.  

 

 

Some situations prove it can be better to keep your mouth shut and look like an easy catch than to open it and prove you’re worth offing.

 

 

Even still though, Jesse barely stifles the urge to slouch and order a hard whiskey, the last few weeks had been tough enough, and now he actually has to keep his wits about him and play it smart; no letting instincts take over or easy patterns rule through his head directing him to shoot where point A meets point B.

 

 

The tight jeans and a size too short shirt are uncomfortable enough as is but the lack of any personal effects is what makes him antsy. They'd said it was easier to not be recognized or traced back to Blackwatch if he was just another lonely guy at the bar, but god darn it all did he ache for the familiar tilt of his hat to hide his eyes.

 

 

Or a cigarillo, he wasn't picky.

 

 

Normally he wouldn't be caught dead in a bar like this, as it is he can only see a few people milling around in the open area but he cringes when he notices that anything on the menu - even a bowl of nuts or a glass of water - all have prices that compensate for the select clientele, or lack of.

 

 

Downing his glass of Cola and Malibu with a small scoff, Jesse can only be thankful everything is being covered by Overwatch’s huge allowance, otherwise he'd have made sure to tell Reyes to shove it where the sun don't shine before paying half his wage for a single drink. It'd be a death warrant to turn Reyes down sure, but at least he'd die a slightly richer man.

 

 

He's not sure what is a funnier image; him dressed in jewels and gold with one of Gabe’s shotguns pressed to his forehead, the sweet words “rest in riches” whispered into his ear, or the picture of Jack slamming the door open and lecturing Gabriel on why it's not okay to kill workmates over expensive drinks.

 

 

He wonders if Jack would be sad if he was murdered.

 

 

“Huh,” Jesse blinks down at his empty glass for a moment.

 

 

His eyes flick back up as a slight commotion reaches his ears, one of the doors at the back opening to reveal a stream of corporate looking men marching out. Pushing the glass away, Jesse absently runs a hand through his hair and thinks _game time_.

 

 

It isn't long before a warm hand is pressing low on his back and a heavily accented voice is speaking sweetly into his ear, “Aren’t you a little too, how should I say, lovely to be drinking alone at a place like this?”

 

 

“Lovely? Can't say I've been called that before,” Jesse grins crookedly at the sight of his target, broad shoulders, thick eyebrows, boyish good looks and a suit that screams power. Seems like all that garbage Reyes was spouting about McCree being the closest to their target’s supposed ‘type’ is ringing true. _Hook, line and sinker._

 

 

His target delivers an equally devious smile back, “When I was told to attend a dreadfully boring meeting I didn't expect someone as spectacular as you to be a reward from following orders for once.”

 

 

Jesse let's his gaze slowly take in all of the other, making sure to pause long enough at his lower half to make his intentions clear. The answering smirk that greets him when he meets the others face again is enough to consider playing dumb and pretty more often, “Well ain't you lucky my car happened to break down today of all days, and that I happen to hate my daddy just enough to spend his money here of all places.”

 

 

Shimada let's out a quick chuckle, his smirk only seeming to grow, still remaining standing next to Jesse’s seated figure but slowly sliding his hand down Jesse’s back low enough that he can feel the calloused fingers brush over the revealed skin where his shirt doesn't quite reach the waistband of his jeans. “Lucky indeed,” the other man purrs.

 

 

Of course the world can't let things be easy for McCree though because just as his target places a finger under his chin and tips his head up, lips barely brushing against each other, a loud authoritative voice yells out across the room in harsh Japanese.

 

 

His target groans and presses their mouths together quick and Jesse can't stop the reflex of his tongue slipping out to lick the other’s lower lip chastely, drawing a pleased groan and a whispered, “Don't I wish I was estranged from my family right now.”

 

 

Just like that his target is standing rigidly tall and glaring at the stranger, muttering back a string of Japanese that gives Jesse a headache for even trying to understand it. He manages to peek out from behind, and nearly chokes on his own spit when he sees it's the elder Shimada that seems to be lecturing his target. Never has he wished for a hat to hide behind more than he does now.

 

 

Jesse manages to pick up a few words - his target’s name, Genji, dishonorable, family, yadda yadda, shameful and, wait, did he just call Jesse a whore? - before his target is storming out of the building in response, a close entourage following his steps.

 

 

At this point Jesse doesn't know which of two potential deaths is better; the older Shimada gutting him for breathing near his brother, or Reyes gutting him for letting his mark walk away and botching the mission. So Jesse McCree does what he does best instead, he turns fully towards Hanzo and delivers his best “I'm just a pretty ray of sunshine, no need to suspect me of anything” smile, making sure to widen his puppy eyes and take advantage of the fact his clean shaven face only adds to the whole innocence thing he's trying to portray.

 

 

By the glare still being sent his way, he assumes it isn't working.

 

 

“こんばんは~” Jesse tries to say as suavely as he can, barely tripping over the sounds.

 

 

Elder Shimada’s glare doesn't let down, if anything it seems to deepen, “I was taught to be respectful and polite to strangers, no matter their heritage or status, but for someone such as you,” his eyes flick down Jesse's form with disdain, “I think I'll make the exception on this day.”

 

 

“Well let's hold on now, I ain't done nothing to bother you and I don't appreciate the racism either,” Jesse raises both eyebrows at what he's been told is the more honourable and justifiable Shimada, at face value at least.

 

 

The other scoffs, “Do not lower me to such grounds, we both know what I meant.”

 

 

“And that means you think I'm a--”

 

 

“You’re a piece of trash-like scum that thinks he can sleep with my brother to gather intel, for whatever reason.”

 

 

Jesse had been expecting a bad reaction but not a guess so close it almost makes him flinch. Sure being labeled as a spy was bad, but being called trash-like? Jesse puts on his best kicked puppy look but inside starts to try think of a way to outplay this Hanzo Shimada before he has Jesse killed.

 

 

“Well now ain't that offensive, are all the pretty men around here so rude, because if so then I'm at the wrong place,” he makes sure to frown and look put out enough, rising from his chair as gracefully as he can, cringing slightly at the way his shirt rides up even more, showing the flat of his stomach and the trail of hair that leads below his (sadly lacking badass) belt. What a way to add more fuel to the fire.

 

 

A sharp grasp on his upper arm halts his retreat, Hanzo’s steely gaze locked onto him, “Leave us,” he barks out to the remaining suits and bartender, the former leaving out the same door Genji strode through just before and the latter all but sprinting out the staff door, no doubt warning all her workers to get the heck away before Shimada decides to share his ire.

 

 

Jesse McCree ain't ever not been a fighter, but he also ain't as dumb as people think. Hanzo’s rough handling and scare tactics are enough to make a grown man cry, what with the power and dominance he manages to exert for someone so young and small in comparison to his men, but Jesse knows if he dodges too easily or escapes too soon then his quickly thought up cover of being a lonely man at the bar will be in tatters, and he doesn't want to risk the Shimada Clan tracing him back to Blackwatch in any shape or form, Reyes will already have his ass for not planting the tracker on Genji and losing the potential lead to find the Shimada’s base of operations.

 

 

So instead Jesse takes the backseat for once and lets Hanzo manhandle him harshly until his lower back is digging painfully into the bar and a strong arm is pressed against his throat, “Do not play coy with me, my brother may be thick in the head with a need to disrespect the family however he can,” Jesse notes that in the back of his head, praying the knowledge Genji could be an asset will be enough to save his ass from a total roast in the frying pan, “but I am not him and I will not take the risk of a spy harming the family.”

 

 

Jesse grasps at the thick forearm on his neck, barely squeaking out through the pressure, “So you'd rather come off paranoid and murder an innocent man like me who was only looking for someone nice to share the night with?”

 

 

Hanzo’s face holds no humour, “Yes.”

 

 

“Hold on, hold on! Grant a doomed man a dying wish then?” Jesse grins crookedly, “Your face is the prettiest I've seen all day, how about killing a lowly American with the kiss of death instead?”

 

 

He grunts as he is spun suddenly, bent awkwardly over the bar with his chest pressed to the surface and a firm weight at his back, “You will come to regret your words,” Hanzo grabs both of Jesse's arms and wretches them behind his back; Jesse knows he could kick out with his legs, sweep Hanzo onto his ass in surprise and hightail it, but a niggling at the back of his head stops him, urges him to keep going, keep up the act, Jesse just hopes it won't be his downfall.

 

 

“Now, now, darlin’,” Jesse flexes his hands a bit, Hanzo’s grip only tightens, “this position ain't so bad from where I’m looking.”

 

 

“Considering all you can see is the flat of a table, I'd say you're about to die with a bleak outlook on life.” Hanzo half sasses back, “something about you is special, よくできました, it makes me want to wretch the life out of you myself and watch you die.”

 

 

“Naw I just reckon you're taking out your anger on a poor stranger that happened to get your brother's attention. If it helps, you're a mighty bit more handsome than he is, makes me wish I'd seen you first.”

 

 

“Do not mention him, filth,” Hanzo hisses into his ear, grip turning painful.

 

 

Jesse is about to pray to Dios and try take out the elder Shimada before the worst happens when a weight pressing into where his ass meets his thigh has him pausing and shifting in his spot. Hanzo is _hard._ He knows it's a fifty-fifty between death and getting a good lay outta a bad situation but Jesse braces his feet and pushes his ass back into the other, ignoring the rather indulgent squawk he's rewarded, and grinds against the outline of Hanzo’s dick. He knows Hanzo would probably kill him before admitting he is turned on or attracted to Jesse, so Jesse shuts his trap for once and just enjoys the feel of the other crowding over his back. His mission has literally turned from maybe some making out and heavy petting into his best try of seduction - with the wrong brother at that - but as he hears Hanzo growl low in his throat, Jesse doesn't mind so much, before Morrison had called him an opportunist after all.

 

 

His head is shoved down roughly onto the glass, making a sick **thunk** that has Jesse wincing through the sudden stars in his vision and ache in his forehead, he groans out a, “like it rough, eh?” before he's more focused on blinking out blood that trickles over his left eye.

 

 

Even as Hanzo grits out a  “you disgust me,” he's yanking down Jesse's pants as best he can, peeling them down his thick thighs until they pool at his ankles. Jesse twitches as the cool air brushes over his skin, barely noticing the humorless chuckle Hanzo lets out at noticing Jesse's lack of underwear, “how classless.”

 

 

“Says the guy about to fuck me.”

 

 

“Wrong, I'm not dumb enough to risk my body to whatever _diseases_ you may carry.” Hanzo pushes the bottom of McCree’s shirt up, the latter hissing at the cold table top meeting the skin of his stomach, “I'm not going to fuck you, I'm going to _own you_.”

 

 

Jesse tries not to shudder at the sound of the accented _fuck_ coming from the other’s lips, he takes a shaky breath and _have I always had a thing for men with deep voices swearing at me?_

 

 

The sudden shock of a rough hand grabbing his ass cheek firmly has him letting out a totally manly sounding squeak, “You know what they say about men with big hands?” he turns his head to grin cheekily up at the other. The answering slam of Hanzo’s fist cracking against his cheekbone has him howling in pain, “Now you've messed up both sides of my face!” he moans, “was just gonna say “they need to buy big gloves” because y’know, big hands, right?”

 

 

“You make me want to shut that trap of yours whichever way possible.” Hanzo growls, reaching over Jesse’s crumpled form to grab something from behind the bar.

 

 

“Well darling, I'll surely trap something of yours in my mouth, willingly even.”

 

 

Hanzo mutters something under his breath in Japanese before speaking lowly into the shell of Jesse's ear, “Luckily for you the bartender working tonight was female and actually cares about moisturizing.”

 

 

Jesse is confused until he sees the small bottle of hand cream next to his head, “What do ya mean, sweetheart? Moisturizing is important for all people, no matter size or shape!”

 

 

He once again cries out as his head is shoved against the glass table top, barely hearing the rough “Shut. Up.”

 

 

“Aw shucks, why you keeping going for the face, I bit my lip clean open this time!” and then his head is forced down again and again and again until he's hissing through the stars peppering his closed eyelids, “and now you've almost broken the table, with my forehead as the hammer, fuck this hurts,” he slurs, noting that the glass has actually started to splinter, no wonder his vision is impaired from more blood.

 

 

“Then shut up for the last time,” Hanzo says almost sing-song like, popping the lid of the bottle open before lathering his fingers in the fruity smelling cream.

 

 

The touch of his palms to Jesse’s inner thighs has him jolting from the cold and the realization that despite the pain radiating from his head, _he's half hard_ , and doesn't that turn him on even more, the fact being manhandled by a Yakuza Crime Lord until he’s bleeding is apparently enough to help him get off.

 

 

Goosebumps rise on his skin, sending a slight chill down his body as Hanzo feels him up and down as if intent on mapping the plains of his ridges and curves. It would almost feel soothing, if it weren't for the way the Shimada drags his nails down roughly against his skin after every upwards brush of fingertips, the way he forces Jesse down lower still, the way he purrs at Jesse's every hiccuping breath, and the way he has Jesse on the cusp of weeping because he's goal is leading him everywhere and anywhere but between Jesse's legs.

 

 

“Hmm, no wires, no bugs, no weapons and no phone,” Hanzo smooths his palms over the arch of Jesse’s back, achingly slow and gentle, “If you really are a spy then you're one of the worst or simply under-prepared ones I've ever seen.”

 

 

Jesse shudders where he leans, feeling the heavy material of Hanzo’s dress pants brush against his bare legs, managing to hold in the _that's because the bug and tracker is inside my shoe, dummy._

 

 

Hanzo seems to come to a decision because the next moment he's yanking McCree’s shirt off fully before twisting it into a makeshift tie, wrapped around Jesse’s wrists and pulled tight. Jesse tries to pretend that it doesn't turn him on, he really does, but he can't help the satisfying feeling of noticing there's little give when he flexes his arms, never mind the fact he's currently trapped under someone who could kill him _mid-coitus_ if he so wished.

 

 

He almost forgets about the slightly sticky cream between his legs, what with the almost continuous rush of careful touches and sharp pain, until one of Hanzo’s rough hands is reaching down and massaging it into the soft skin of his inner thighs, and the way his wrist brushes against the heavy hang of Jesse’s crotch is sweet torture because it's enough to show him how much better this could be but also because it reminds him of who exactly is calling the shots right now, and it isn't him.

 

 

“That ought to do,” Hanzo grunts, the light clicking of a belt being undone sounding almost too loud in the mostly empty air. Jesse could cry at the thought of Hanzo just leaving him here high and dry, not really minding how precarious his situation actually is.

 

 

Hanzo himself can't help the small tilt to his lips at the sight before him, this American stranger was suspicious at the least and deadly at the worst, but 神様 did he look good stretched out naked down to the knees. Not really knowing, and at this point not really caring, if this was something he should be doing after all, Hanzo undoes his fly and pushes his pants and briefs down just enough to pull his throbbing length out, idly stroking it as the stranger waves his ass back and forth slowly, as if he isn't aware of it himself. Hanzo isn't a selfish man, isn't necessarily greedy or domineering, but even he feels his chest puff out slightly at the sight of what he can do to someone this attractive, regardless of spy status or not.

 

 

He leans down and brings the shell of the other's ear between his teeth, biting down hard enough to hurt but not break the skin, yet, “If you want me to even consider letting you go or,” his gaze flicks to the way the stranger is gasping in need despite his bloody and bruised face, “if you want me to lend you a hand, you will do as I say, is that clear?”

 

 

Sluggishly, he raises his gaze to Hanzo and grins, “Aye aye, ボス”

 

 

This time when Hanzo decides to bite the other, he sinks his teeth into the meat of his shoulder, something primal in him snapping when he _keeps biting_ until he breaks the skin, relishing in the low moan he gets and the taste of copper in his mouth.

 

 

When he pulls off he knows his mouth and teeth must be painted a vibrant red, “Press your legs together as tight as you can and stay like that. Now.”

 

 

The American groans out a garbled, “You're killing me darlin’,” before doing as instructed, his thighs pressing together almost sinfully, ass looking both soft enough to bite and firm enough to dig fingers into. The glimpse of slick peaking out from where Hanzo rubbed it in earlier has the Shimada growling low in his throat, popping the cap off the cream and coating his hands generously in the stuff until it's dripping. He doesn't waste any more time with how hasty he covers his dick in it, humming lowly at the slick sensation.

 

 

Pressing into the tight space between the other's thighs has Hanzo moaning softly, the wet feel and almost too strong hold on his length pulling a louder sound from his lips until he's pushed in fully, knowing the other must be struggling with only the feel and slight brush of Hanzo’s dick against the underside of his own.

 

 

The first thrust is a test, a gauge on how much give there is to work with, but Jesse is moaning already at the way cool air brushes the residue substance on his backside before Hanzo is pushing forward almost tormentingly slow. He almost whines with how the press and pull feels so close, so good, so much like the real thing, but isn't, “H-Harder,” he moans out, hands clenching the material around his wrists tight, “please,” he adds almost as an afterthought.

 

 

Hanzo retreats ever so slowly again, drawing out Jesse's high whine, before snapping his hips forward suddenly, sliding harshly into the warm crevice Jesse’s meaty thighs provide.

 

 

Jesse can't help but part his legs just a little bit reflexively, biting down on his own tongue when he feels the thick head of Hanzo’s dick where it starts it's slide between his lower cheeks, all the way through the slight give of his inner thighs, barely touching his length at the peak of the harsh thrust, but pressing firmly against his balls when he's hit home. Shivering, he arches into the touch, rutting against nothing as Hanzo pulls back and repeats his thrust almost brutally.

 

 

Hanzo grips Jesse’s hips for leverage, pushing back through the soft resistance and growling at the heat of it, uncaring that his long hair has come loose from it's tie and is now sticking to his neck and face.

 

 

It's almost too good, too warm and slick, that Hanzo has to remind himself that this isn't actually the real thing. He looks down at the muscles twitching along the other's strong back, the way his breath hitches every time Hanzo snaps his hips forward, and can't help but think that this is already so much dirtier, so much more _sinful_ than the usual way he's bedded people. It's almost endearing how the other had tried to slide away from Hanzo’s attention when they started, what with how he's now riding every thrust of his, pushing back every time Hanzo pulls away, moaning loudly whenever he gets the slightest friction against his own length.

 

 

He bites his own lip as his grasp on Jesse’s hips tightens painfully, digging into the slight rise of flesh there until it's bruisingly strong, devouring every sound and sight Jesse rewards him with.

 

 

Sweat is dripping down Jesse’s brow, stinging as it meets the cuts and abrasions from before, but he doesn't care. Hanzo’s thrusts haven't gotten so mad that he's barely pushing past Jesse’s thighs, instead he's taken to sliding his hard cock upwards between the American’s ass cheeks. Jesse doesn't know if it's an improvement, this way his own cock is left alone heavy and aching, but with how it's going every odd thrust has the head of Hanzo’s dick catching on Jesse’s rim, teasing him and making him wish the other had prepped him after all so Hanzo could just thrust inside him deep and suddenly.

 

 

The thought of Hanzo’s thick length filling him up has Jesse whining pitifully, begging Hanzo to _go faster, don't stop, please please please._

 

 

Hanzo seems to catch on, or Jesse hopes he does, because a hand snakes around Jesse’s front and is jacking him off almost too fast considering how long he's been waiting, but he doesn't care, he's whining in the back of his throat and can't stop the way he cums the next time Hanzo’s dick brushes against his entrance, shuddering as thick ropes spill from his cock to splatter on his stomach and the floor below him.

 

 

Any self-restraint Hanzo has seems to snap the moment Jesse whimpers and collapses against the hard table, he's wrapping one arm around the other's torso and grasping the other's chest roughly over his heart, groaning at the fact Jesse has enough muscle there that he actually manages a handful, despite the American’s whine of protest at how it's too much, too soon.

 

 

Jesse’s body pressed to the bar slides back and forth each time Hanzo rocks against his ass, but neither care as the former rides the too strong aftershocks of his orgasm and the latter chases his own end.

 

 

Enough time has passed that it goes from _somuchtoomuch_ whenever Hanzo twists a nipple to the cusp of painful as his body starts to go numb from too much stimulation.

 

 

Hanzo’s ragged breaths and low moans are all the warning he gets before all of a sudden Hanzo is pulling his hand back from groping Jesse’s chest to join it's partner at Jesse's ass. He's confused for a second until he feels fingers spreading his rim just enough for Hanzo to press the head of his cock inside, it hurts and it’s so out of nowhere that he keens deep in his throat through the burning sting, and he's about to shove the other off, but then Hanzo groans in the back of his throat and is cumming so suddenly inside of him that Jesse chokes.

 

 

The first spurt of cum warms Jesse’s insides, seemingly so much of it that it  leaves him clenching around what little of Hanzo is actually inside him, but then Hanzo is pulling out before he's done, and is painting Jesse’s ass and thighs white. Hanzo takes some satisfaction in the way it drips down his legs slowly and can't help but press a finger to Jesse's rim, keeping what little cum is left in him inside.

 

 

Jesse is kind of glad he's past his teenage years by just enough because after that he doesn't think he's up for another round so soon, both mentally and physically. He sags and shakes slightly against the bar, his legs twitching, “M’ thought you weren't gonna risk catching my disease or whatever.”

 

 

Brief alarm bells ring in Jesse’s ears, vaguely panicking that Hanzo Shimada has given him a STI, before a disgusted scoff reaches his ears, “Like I would ever go without protection to catch such a thing.”

 

 

Jesse manages enough strength to twist over, raising a bruised eyebrow at the other, “So what do you call filling me up with cum then? The safest way to have sex?”

 

 

Hanzo is half way through putting his own pants on impeccably when his mouth opens almost comically. _He kinda looks like a goldfish gaping at nothing like that,_ Jesse thinks, before the door is slamming open suddenly and his eyes dart to the shock of green hair and the matching startled face now standing in the room with them. A moment of awkward silence fills the air, the younger Shimada no doubtingly taking note of the completely naked and bloody McCree, and his sweating and disheveled brother, before Genji and his raised eyebrows are backing out of the door. Hanzo storms after him with loud and mildly frantic Japanese spilling from his lips, but Jesse doesn't take the chance, he twists his arms around, thankfully gathering enough sweat to pull one hand out of the makeshift restraints, groaning at the way his shoulder pops uncomfortably at the strain, before following with his other arm. He hastily yanks his pants back up his legs, cringing at the sensation of cooling cum and the fact the jeans are so tight he can feel where it paints his skin every time he shifts. He abandons his shirt and all but runs out the front door, thanking his blessing it's somehow not locked.

 

 

He's made it ten minutes into the serene looking forest nearby by the time shouts echo through the bar he was just at, but he doesn't hear any of it, not the harsh demands of Hanzo ordering people to bring him back, nor Genji trying to reassure Hanzo that the handsome American stranger might have been just that, a perfect stranger, because Jesse McCree is sprinting like his legs aren't about to give out and clutching the bag he'd stashed nearby with emergency supplies before going in.

 

 

Jesse is puffing badly and sounds as ragged as he feels when he calls Blackwatch’s secure line, quickly relaying he's been compromised and yes Reyes is allowed to kill him later but first send someone to extract his ass before he's shot in the back. It's been almost an hour since he escaped before he finally collapses under a thick bush, nearly crying when he gets a call back saying that a small Overwatch squad was operating nearby in Seoul and will be flying to his co-ordinates within twenty minutes.

 

 

He's pushing himself up against a tree when he hears the good - not good, great news, thanking all the Gods in the world for the chance of people arriving soon, but his head is aching so bad now that he has no distraction or adrenaline in his system and he thinks he might pass out as soon as he's safe, that and he's dirty and shirtless still and the night is only getting colder while his teeth only seem to chatter louder and louder through his shivering body.

 

 

“Awh shucks,” he mutters.

 

 

He felt the vibrations from the airship’s landing long before he sees anyone in the distance, but when he does he feels like crawling away from the figure making his way towards him. Instead of lovely Angela or her team and their professional clinical treatment, stands Jack _fucking_ Morrison, looking livid and relieved at the same time.

 

 

Jesse hates Reyes, he totally didn't get Morrison's approval for the mission after all.

 

 

But Jesse McCree once again does what he does best, he smiles as well as he can through the dried blood caked on his face, thankful the cold had numbed the pain ages ago, and gives Jack a little wave, “Er, ah, howdy there partner!”

 

 

Morrison’s face looks nothing like the usual charming expression he gives the cameras on TV when he grabs Jesse’s arm and yanks him to his feet, Jesse yelping and stumbling when his legs protest from the painful tingle of pins and needles spreading through his limbs like a flashfire, “I leave you alone for two weeks and this is what happens.” His face and voice are stern but his eyes scream with worry as he takes in the already darkening bruises and numerous scrapes and cuts on Jesse’s face.

 

 

“You caught me, Sir. Couldn't resist going a few rounds with the bar table in there with the way it was looking at me all wrong.” Jesse's voice cracks, “although it sure does hurt a man’s pride when said bar wins.”

 

 

Jack stares at him for a moment, seemingly searching Jesse’s face for something, Jesse doesn't know what, before he's tapping the holographic visor over his eye and calling the others for backup.

 

 

He doesn't protest when Jack is pulling off his long blue coat and wrapping it around Jesse's bare shoulders, sighing dreamily at the warmth still clinging to the jacket, and thinking he might be suffering from mild shock at this point.

 

 

“After you're patched up, I’d like you to come see me, okay?” Jesse nods and Morrison pauses, “That's not an order though, Soldier. If you come to me it's going to be off the books, on our terms" Jesse nods once more despite the apprehension filling his gut.

 

 

Jack’s grip tightens for a second before he's leading them further into the woods, and then the bright lights coming from the airship are blinding Jesse’s eyes and he has to shut them to deal with the pain.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse almost wants to say _“I've already got cream in my pants, but it's not mine like you'd think and it’s not store bought like the kind you put on apple pie, it's from the Yakuza Crime Lord who is actually the brother of who you sent me to seduce, but my brand of talent is so unique I manage to have the big boss cumming all over me instead of planting the bug on his little bro like you wanted me to do.”_

The wait in the sterile clinic room has Jesse twitching his foot against the floor. After he stumbled into base all the other agents had scampered off around him, for both an opportunity to rest and to debrief in their respective fields, but Jack himself had shoved Jesse at the nearest medic with a look in his eyes Jesse couldn't place - so he didn't bother trying - and then stormed off down the halls like a bat outta hell.

 

Now Jesse sits on a hard bed that's covered in sanitary paper wanting nothing more than a strong whisky, a cigarillo or two and maybe a hug. 

 

He knows he looks a sorry picture; busted lip still dripping blood from where he keeps worrying it with his tongue, never mind the cuts (and what he's pretty sure are glass shards still embedded in his face) dotting his brow and forehead, and then there's the shiner high on his cheekbone that aches so badly he can feel it throbbing in time with his pulse. Sniffling and thinking  _ fuck me _ , he snuggles in closer to the coat he still has wrapped around him, not even sure why he's so affected, he's had worse wounds, seen people die in front of him even, but there's something that's sitting wrong with him. Maybe it's how surreal the situation seems, getting caught, getting fucked and then running through the trees for his life half naked. 

 

Or maybe it has to do with Jack of all people breaching the treeline and coming to his rescue. He's sure many teenage girls dream of the beautiful blonde sweeping them off their feet in the face of danger, but trepidation fills Jesse’s stomach like an endless void. 

 

He's glaring at the clock for no real reason when the doors bang open and a short woman walks in juggling papers. Jesse has half the mind to get up and help her but the way she's marching towards what must be her desk has the gentleman in Jesse letting her do it herself, a lass with purpose is something he knows not to get in the way of. 

 

It takes a few moments of rustling paper before she is standing in front of him again, she's frowning slightly at his injuries but Jesse reckons she'd be relieved that for once she's not having to shadow Angela and work on someone that's been disemboweled or almost-beheaded. 

 

The work on extracting the glass from where it clings into his flesh,  _ like a jealous lover _ , Jesse thinks, has barely begun when the door opens again and none other than Reyes stands there. 

 

Jesse is half glad, half cringing at the fact he's still donned in Jack’s bright blue coat; on one hand he's buttoned it up fully so it covers the bruises on his hips and waist - and hides the bloody bite on his neck - even if the jacket is a bit too big on the shoulders and a bit too tight in the middle, but it's also like a beacon that broadcasts that he fucked up and Gabriel’s sometimes best friend/sometimes enemy had to stride in and save his ass. 

 

“You better have some information I can work with or so help me I'll bench your ass for months if that's what it takes to get you to not screw up,” Reyes says casually as if they were discussing their opinions on the coffee brewed in the shared canteen, which is mighty horrible in Jesse’s opinion, but the feeling in his gut only gets worse the less angry the other seems. It takes a truly enraged man to be able to radiate calm that well, his Ma used to say. 

 

Jesse tries to muster a grin but falters when the nurse resumes her treatment of his busted up face, wincing at every slow pull she makes with the tweezers, feeling the displaced glass in his skin like it's under a magnifying glass. Superficial wounds always hurt like a bitch to him, because if it isn't serious then you don't get the real good painkillers to help with the pain. Despite the stinging, he manages to speak around her, “Actually I do have something that might help not just myself for once,” at Gabriel’s curled lip he continues, tempted to bring up Genji’s strained relationship right here and now but hesitating when his eyes flick to their audience, “real shocker I know but the ass kicking I'll get from the others for screwing up might be worth what I got. Might even get Morrison a new recruit if it goes well.” 

 

For once the mention of Jack doesn't have Gabriel’s face dropping like he's both sucked on something real sour and been dumped in freezing water at the same time, instead he grins and gives Jesse a look before nodding at the bright blue material almost swallowing him up, “Judging by this I'm sure getting a pat on the head from the almighty Morrison will be enough to have you creaming your pants right then and there.” 

 

Jesse almost wants to say “ _ I've already got cream in my pants, but it's not mine like you'd think and it’s not store bought like the kind you put on apple pie, it's from the Yakuza Crime Lord who is actually the brother of who you sent me to seduce, but my brand of talent is so unique I manage to have the big boss cumming all over me instead of planting the bug on his little bro like you wanted me to do.”  _

 

Instead he bites his lip and chuckles a bit nervously, because he doesn't have a deathwish and he would rather Reyes tease him for weeks over wearing Morrison’s jacket than for him to rip it off and discover the traces of Hanzo’s claim on him. That and it's actually a pretty comfy coat,  _ and it still smells like Jack _ his brain supplies. 

 

“Now now, I thought it was you who Fareeha said was sneaking out of the Strike Commander’s bedroom early the other day?” Jesse says, “Had to tell her that you were going over a mission report instead of having to explain to her what a booty call is.”

 

Like a trigger, Reyes’s slight smirk turns into an almost vicious snarl, “There’s a difference between wanting to lick someone's boots clean like you do and wanting to relive stress.” He turns around and moves towards the door, “Oh and good doctor? Stitch what needs stitching and heal what would scar, but don't do anything else, let him wear his cuts and bruises so he remembers what failing feels like.” 

 

“Awhhh boss! You know my face is one of the few things I got going for me!” Jesse’s cry echoes in the large room. The nurse or doctor or whatever rank the medic is gives him a glare at the noise. He winks and smiles sheepishly at her, “Sorry.” 

 

; 

 

At his insistence, and the way he kept gently but insistently pushing her arms away, Jesse barely manages to escape the woman before she can demand he take the coat off and let her do a full body inspection, lest she take one look at the marks and dried substances on him and organize a close and personal appointment with both a) her gloved hand searching for injury throughout and within his intimate parts, and b) with a psychologist trying to coax him into squealing out whatever looks good on his annual performance review. 

 

Staggering out from the woman’s clutches and the impersonal feel of the room, Jesse lets his head thunk against the now closed door twice before resting it there. His saviour’s request to see him still floats heavily in his mind, whether it's as Jack - the one who always snorts when he laughs too hard, smiles for everyone even if it doesn't reach his eyes, and once cradled Jesse’s face so softly that Jesse  _ almost cried  _ when he pressed their lips together - or as Strike Commander Morrison - the one who can sternly break people down, has walked the halls covered in another man’s blood as if it were nothing,  _ and went and slept with Gabriel just two days after  _ the kiss  _ which Jesse refuses to bring up.  _ It remains to be seen which one he'll get, but Jesse wishes he could sink into the ground regardless and will it all to fix itself without his presence or existence. That and when he stands completely upright again and the dried cum in his pants chafes uncomfortably, he's reminded he still hasn't showered and groans at the long distance to his room on the other side of the base. 

 

Jack or Morrison or Commander or Almighty Leader of Overwatch can come later, for now Jesse focuses on getting himself under a nice hot spray, telling himself he isn't stalling and focusing on something else completely. 

 

; 

 

The decision to visit Jack after the older man is due to have finished dinner already is a lot easier to make once he's freshly washed, shampoo-d, soaped up, towelled off, clothed, and with his hat on top of his drying head of hair. He's half tempted to rock up in his pajamas but he doesn't really think baby blue sweats and a matching singlet with the words “Saddle and Stuff Me” on it is really appropriate, even if the pull to is strong enough to have him hesitating. 

 

He grips the jacket he knows he definitely has to return in his arms and coughs once before throwing on a confident grin as he knocks firmly on the door. 

 

The sight of pinched brows and the same set of work clothes worn earlier today in the forest has Jesse cringing, he really doesn't hope this means he'll be dealing be with The Commander and getting the ribbing of his life. 

 

Jack’s expression looks startled for a second before he ushers Jesse inside with a hand lightly pressed against the small of his back that certainly doesn't have Jesse squirming, especially when Jack seems to whisper purposefully in his ear with that deep voice of his, “Sorry, had half the mind to assume you weren't going to come.” 

 

Jesse screams hysterically in his mind,  _ I already came today, don't yooooooou worry about it,  _ and settles on a tight chuckle instead before handing Jack the blue garb in his hands, “Yeah, sorry about that partner, didn't want to interrupt your dinner or any paperwork type things I know you higher ups always have to do,” Jesse settles into the chair at Jack’s desk when the blonde motions to, “even on Christmas and Sundays, heaven forbid.” 

 

Jack carefully folds up the returned coat, places it in what Jesse assumes is his dirty laundry basket and then turns to face him fully. He remains standing when he starts to speak up, “Okay, well, I don't mean to be harsh or judgemental, McCree, but we both know I saw your condition when I found you  _ almost inside a bush _ earlier, and we're both civil enough to not pretend I didn't.” 

 

Jesse sucks in a low breath and fingers the rim of his hat, “Think it's pretty clear I botched the mission, no need to be detailing it in our free time now.” 

 

“You know I mean the bruises and bites all over you, not the fact you were hiding within the wildlife,” Jack's reply is sudden and sharp. 

 

No beating around the bush then, Jesse taps his foot against the carpeted ground, “I wasn't raped if that's what you're thinking. Got into a sticky situation and managed to turn it towards my favor, that's all.”

 

Jack expression doesn't waver, “And these cuts and bruises on your face show that?” 

 

“Hey now, how rough I like it really isn't your business now is it,” Jesse adds on a, “Sir,” and Jack’s firm hold seems to falter at that and Jesse just knows he's going to try bring up their moment that almost turned into a whole night but he beats the blonde to the punch, “Trust me, I'm not deluded into thinking you belong in it, although Reyes might.” 

 

What he does not expect is for Jack to take four quick steps forwards until he's bracing his hands on either side of the armchair Jesse is in, both caging the latter in and leaning close enough that Jesse shifts dubiously in his spot. Jack’s face is half way pained and half frustrated as he stares intently at Jesse, “What Gabe and I have it isn't- it's not a relationship, it's not what you and I have.” 

 

“What you and I  _ don't actually _ have, don't you mean?” Jesse looks unimpressively up at him, “As I recall it, you're the one who took his sweet time pulling me apart with his tongue in my mouth and then staggered off before I could form words.” 

 

The sound of fingers clenching down tightly on expensive leather is like a loud roar in the otherwise quiet room, “I just, McCree,” Jack struggles, “Jesse, you've got to understand, Gabe and I have been doing this for as long as we've known each other, years before you were even an adult, but it's different to what everyone would think. There's as much love between us as there is between Talon and Overwatch, but sometimes it feels like it's safer to stick with it than to-” 

 

“Chase after some young and fresh meat?” Jesse raises an eyebrow but he's not amused, “Commander Morrison, you're starting to sound like a desperate TV soap character who would do anything to catch some tail. Now if you'd excuse me,” Jesse pushes the other’s arms away and rises from the chair, “I'm fine and yes Hanzo Shimada did screw me well within an inch of my life but it was completely consensual,” He's almost at the door when he hits the last nail into the coffin, “and don't worry, I was begging him to.” 

 

Smug smirk on his face, Jesse grips the door handle and tries to convince himself he isn't choking on pain and rejection instead, and tries to focus on the voice in his mind reminding him that all his hope and stupid, stupid joy at finally getting Jack’s attention when  _ The Kiss _ happened hurt all the more when he learnt of his two chief commanders sleeping together days later. 

 

Jack’s palm landing on the wood of the door is like a slap and he spins Jesse around with a single grip of his shoulder, the fact Jesse reacted - because he's a well trained agent too god dammit - with a move to try twist and disarm the other, before promptly failing at it, is left unspoken through Jesse’s humourless growl and Jack’s borderline needy expression; like he has the words but not the right language to try get his point across. 

 

“Just listen, okay? What I'm trying to say is that _I_ _like you,_ not just because I want get into your pants,” he says in a rush. 

 

Jesse once again raises a dubious eyebrow, “You ‘like me’? What is this, kindergarten, where we'll hold hands and tell everyone we’re married now because we like each other?” 

 

“No, it means I want to kiss you again, want to take you out somewhere fancy for once or make a horrible picnic you'll pretend to like.” Jack stares into his eyes and it's making Jesse a tad self conscious, the only time a man looks at him like that is just before they try to kill him. 

 

Despite Jesse’s internal conflict, the other continues in a rush, “It means I think you're gorgeous despite the silly hat and the fake grin you hide behind, it means I want to run my fingers through your hair, “Jack’s voice deepens into a growl at the end, “and then  _ yank _ you down onto your knees, not just because I'm attracted to you but because I  _ like _ you a whole lot, Jesse.” 

 

“As much as Reyes?” Jesse can't help but spit out. 

 

The hand on the door lifts and slams back down with a bang, if Jesse were a slighter man he'd have jumped in his spot, instead he chews on his lower lip in a fake imitation of boredom, “No, I screwed up okay, I just- I kept telling myself I should leave you alone, you're so much younger than me and have so much left to do, while I'm starting to go grey already, my best friend hates me and so much of my time belongs to the job.” 

 

Jack sucks in a breath, “Sometimes it's hard to be the poster boy-” 

 

_ Tell that to Reyes, I'm sure he'd pat your back and cheer you up for getting the job he won't stop complaining about _ , Jesse almost says, and then gives himself kudos for holding back on so many comments today, he reckons he deserves a raise or extra coffee for all this. Or sick leave.  

 

“-but after seeing you earlier, half frozen and covered in bruises from someone else’s hands, fuck, Jesse can we just talk about this properly?” 

 

“Says the guy crowding me against his door,” Jesse scoffs and presses his hands to the other’s chest, pushing lightly as more a direction than to forcefully get him away. 

 

Instead of taking the hint and backing up, Jack instead takes a step closer into his personal space, pressing impossibly close and forcing Jesse's arms back against his own chest, palms still gripping Jack’s pectorals tighten in shock and it forces a grunt out of him as he's squeezed between a wall and a - Jesse flexes his fingers to get a feel of Jack, never one to turn down such an opportunity - well, another wall. Jesse is half way to telling him to back the fuck off when Jack swoops down and presses their lips together. It's rough and harsh, more the clash of teeth and hot breath than last time’s soft and slow, but Jesse feels himself whining in the back of his throat. 

 

He tears his mouth away, sucking in a deep breath before leveling a confused stare at Jack, “How in the hell is that us talking properly?” 

 

Jack looks flustered but also a tad guilty, “Figured may as well take the chance just in case it all goes to shit.” 

 

He tongues the cut on his lower lip, wincing when it stings and tasting fresh blood, “Okay, so, you're basically saying that you want me, both to do the dirty with and to take to swell parties, but after almost getting me you felt bad and went and slept with your fuck buddy in, what, remorse or mourning or something equally stupid?” 

 

Jack nods quick and briefly, seeming bashful of all things, Jesse frowns at him,“Do you know how dumb that is?” 

 

“I'm sorry but-” 

 

Jesse clamps his hand over Jack’s mouth, “Ah, ah, ah. Enough of your rambling, let me finish getting my head on straight for God’s sake.” At the next nod he gets, he releases his hand and instead loops both of his arms around Jack’s neck, leaning back casually against the door, making sure Jack can feel the weight of him clinging to him. Hesitantly, Jack places his own hands on Jesse’s hips, grip going firm when Jesse doesn't slap them away, “So, seeing me all fucked up by a Shimada got you hot and bothered and now you want me again?” 

 

“No, seeing you looking roughed up and alone on a mission I didn't authorize, without any backup for fuck’s sake, reminded me why I shouldn’t hesitate when I want to be with you,” Jack leans in slowly, dry lips barely brushing against Jesse’s, “seeing the bruises and that _ bite,  _ is what made me realise that you won't always be here waiting for me to make a decision, whether willingly or not.” 

 

Jesse is sure the other can feel the shit-eating grin on his face from where their lips ghost against each other, “Well, Strike Commander Man, if we're going to give this a try I have a few ground rules. One, no more fucking or being fucked by Gabe. Two, after tonight we're gonna take it slow, I want to be wined and dined and to kiss your hand like a gentleman at the end of each date.” 

 

Jack moves minutely closer, “Sir, yes Sir,” and because he isn't an actual idiot, he picks up on Jesse’s comment, “You said ‘after tonight’? Does that mean-?” he leaves the question in the air. 

 

Jesse answers him by looking thoughtful on purpose before pulling him in, mouth parted, willingly accepting the lips that brush incessantly against his own, Jack is a man with drive - training, meetings, mission, work - and Jesse is pleasantly surprised to find it applies to kissing too, sighing happily when the kiss goes on and Jack’s pushing his tongue into his mouth, licking at the back of his teeth and plundering his mouth as if he needs to map it out in it’s entirety. 

 

The grunt that escapes Jesse’s mouth is completely one hundred percent manly, but it's a grunt of surprise nonetheless. He's left grappling at Jack’s shoulders when he lifts Jesse up, legs hastily coming to wrap around Jack’s waist. They're both around the same height, Jesse just shy of Jack’s 185cm, but it's a testament to his strength that he can pick Jesse up and carry him over to the military standard bed like it's nothing, the only sounds coming from his mouth aren't ones of pain or struggle. 

 

Jesse lands with a soft oof on the bed, spreading out like a content cat and grinning up at Jack. The look he gives Jack is salacious and he can't help but wink as he looks up at the other. He fixes the hat on his head from where it tumbled off mid-fall and tips it cheekily, “Well, howdy there partner~”  

 

Maybe he should've worn his “Saddle and Stuff Me” pajamas after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading guys, not sure if I'll end up writing another chapter about what jack and jesse actually get up to, it depends but we'll see! 
> 
>  
> 
> this took a bit longer than I planned to get up but i got some nasty messages on tumblr from a person attacking me about how i wrote hanzo as the one predominantly in charge instead of having him as the honeytrap over jesse in chapter one (which makes 0 sense in this AU, why would hanzo go undercover and try seduction in blackwatch) but regardless it kinda dragged my enthusiasm down welp, mostly better now and starting up writing for the overwatch big bang on tumblr now so that'll be cool beans. 
> 
>  
> 
> also, shoutout to zana, who i know will end up reading this because he is an awesome sauce bestie like that even though he's in the army right now lol, I have a message that para sent me earlier also so I'll write it here to you too "Rouva Mahtimaila, koirani on karvainen, mutta majava on sitäkin uljaampi!" hope it cheers you up while you're cleaning your rifle or something <3
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr!](http://vanquish-darkstar.tumblr.com)


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